Not Ready For the World Outside
by ev1lregal
Summary: Prompt: Emma's depression gets the best of her. Regina tries to help. Fluff and angst (but the fluff is quasi non-existent, sorry anon). Rated T for language.


This was supposed to be part of my Swan Queen drabble collection, but it got a little out of control so I'm posting it as a ficlet (I'm out of prompt guys).

I think it's more angsty than fluffy. Thanks for the prompt anon, I hope you like it! :)

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own _OUaT_ or _BtVS_ , only the mistakes and typos.

* * *

She doesn't remember the last time she felt so much self-hatred. Not since the day she gave up her son. Sure, she's had some bad days, some pretty low lows, but nothing that rivals the hate-storm that's brewing inside. She is _so_ angry. She could punch a hole in the tiled shower wall. She doesn't really know what's stopping her; probably the fact that Regina and Henry would get worried if they heard. So instead she digs her nails deep into the skin on her sides and screams silently.

She turns off the shower forcefully, wrings her hair before twisting a towel around her head. She pats herself dry hastily and pulls on a pair of her wife's yoga pants and an old faded 'I heart NY' hoodie.

The angry energy she was feeling bubbling moments ago is fizzing out fast, and if she doesn't hurry and get in bed now, she might crumble to the floor and never be able to move again.

She unwraps the towel around her hair and tosses it on the ground. It lands with a wet thud as Emma flops onto their bed and pulls the covers over her head, shielding herself from the world. She takes a deep breath, she's safe here.

Fuck everything. She doesn't care she's supposed to be getting ready for work, that her family is waiting for her downstairs - she feels guilty though. So much guilt, it's suffocating, maddening, but she's not going anywhere. She _can't_ go anywhere. Her dad doesn't actually need her at the station, and Regina is the one usually driving Henry to school.

She can hear her wife in the kitchen, Regina is probably making pancakes. Henry is laughing loudly, and the tears start falling. Nobody needs her. They'd all be fine without her. They were fine before she ever set foot in Storybrooke. Regina has Henry. Henry has his mother. Her parents have each other and a brand new baby; a chance to start over.

Silent sobs rip from her throat. She curls into herself and cries hard, unrestrainedly. She couldn't stop if she wanted to. _'What a fucking pathetic saviour_ ,' she thinks. She almost wants to laugh hysterically.

Emma is so consumed by her anguish, she doesn't hear her son's footsteps creeping up the stairs and padding down the hallway. She freezes mid-sob when she hears the knock on the door and Henry asking, "Uh Ma, are you ready?"

She can hear him entering the bedroom and panic seizes her. She doesn't want him to see her like that. Emma squeezes her eyes shut and takes a few shaky and shallow breaths, wiping uselessly the tears off her face with the palm of her hand.

"I'm not going to work today, kid," she croaks. "I'm not feeling too well."

Her response comes out muffled by the layers of blankets, but it's evident that she's been crying, and Henry hurries back downstairs to tell his mom.

* * *

After a call to Snow, Regina sends her son on his way out to school with an overnight bag as he's going to be spending the night at his grandparents'. She leaves a message to her assistant, telling her she won't be in that day and possibly the next.

Regina wonders, almost fearfully as she climbs the stairs, how she will find Emma; how bad her lover's depression will be this time.

She walks into their room, up to their bed and slid under the covers next to _her_ Saviour.

Emma is on her stomach, her head facing away from her, and Regina is troubled by how silent and still her wife is; a stark contrast with the usually loud and hyperactive overgrown child that is Emma Swan. She's not crying anymore, but fresh tears are still streaming down her uncharacteristically pale cheeks. Regina stretches down next to her, brushing a few stray, damp strands of hair out of her wife's eyes.

"Henry will be sleeping over at your parents' place tonight," Regina informs her as if this was a casual conversation. "Snow is a bit overwhelmed with Neal, and he's going to babysit for a few hours after school."

She pauses, waits to see if Emma is going to say something, but the blonde stays eerily quiet.

"I've taken the day off too. We can simply lie here, and watch that TV show you love so much until everything feels a little bit more manageable, alright? How does that sound, love?"

Emma wants to scream, tell her nothing is ever going to get better, it's always so fucking dark and hard and she is so freaking done with it all, but all she can do is nod. Because if this is the end, if she can't make it until tomorrow, at least she'll get to feel Regina's arms around her and hear the steady, strong beat of her heart one last time.

Regina summons the remote control that's on Emma's nightstand into her hand and flicks their new flat screen on, pulling up the Netflix app. She never thought she'd get a TV in her room, but Emma nagged her for an entire year, and she caved. And days like these are the reason she's glad she did.

The mayor expertly navigates through the different categories and clicks on _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. Quickly, she selects the musical episode and sits back against a stack of fluffy pillows, running her left hand up and down Emma's back soothingly. She wishes she could just wrap her arms around her wife and hold her close, tell her how much she loves her, but she can't. Emma, easily overwhelmed, doesn't deal well with physical affection when she's upset. Regina has to wait; it's all she can do.

And it works. A few minutes into the episode, Regina can feel Emma beginning to relax next to her.

The blonde confessed once that for years, back when she lived in Boston, this show had been her only source of comfort.

By the time the third song comes on, Emma has started crying again, and Regina's heart breaks in half.

"Oh, Emma," she murmurs. "Come here, love."

Regina pulls her toward her, and Emma instinctively rests her head above her heart. The Saviour clutches at her wife's top, her sobs never letting up. Regina wraps her arms protectively around her, cradling her head tenderly.

"Emma, it's okay, you're okay, love," she tries to soothe, afraid the Saviour will start hyperventilating or she will make herself sick.

"I'm sorry," Emma whispered between tears. "I'm so sorry. I'm so tired, Gina."

"Shhh, it's alright, dear. You have nothing to be sorry for," Regina assures her, rocking her gently. "Why don't you close your eyes for a minute? I'll be right here." She strokes Emma's hair, hoping it will be enough to keep her calm.

Emma nods and lets her eyes flutter shut. Her cries slowly abate. She's not asleep, but she is feeling a little bit better with Regina there with her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She can feel Regina's heartbeat, and it grounds her. Giles and Tara are signing in the background. Her despair fades a little, and she can finally breathe.

* * *

The day passes. They haven't moved from their bed; Emma didn't feel up to it, but Regina promises they'll do exactly the same thing tomorrow if that's what Emma needs.

Life may not seem manageable right now, but another day like this one does, and so Emma clings to her wife as she falls asleep, hopeful.

* * *

Feedback is always really appreciated! xx  
 **tumblr** : charmingregal


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